


WWVD?

by dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7327321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap/pseuds/dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you have to ask yourself: What Would Voldemort Do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	WWVD?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling.

** WWVD? **

Narcissa Malfoy stared at her four-year-old son with a less than amused expression. Her blue eyes targeted him like a hawk ready to go after its prey. If only her husband knew. He would leave her.

 

Probably for someone younger.

 

She watched as Draco placed his hands on the ground and started pulling at the dewy green grass underneath him. This, _this_ was much better than what he had been doing in the morning.

 

Narcissa shuddered as she recalled their morning. She asked him if he felt _ill_. He said, ‘No, Mummy!’ And he laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

 

Her blood had boiled and her heart thumped in her chest ready to burst out because of her misery. She asked him if he lost his memory. She waited in anticipation for Draco to say _yes_ and then rush him off to St. Mungo’s for a Healer to fix her son. He said, ‘no,’ and then tried to remove himself from her grip.

 

She knew it was her fault. She had been lazy this morning. She didn’t feel like keeping up appearances. She didn’t want to swipe on some lipstick and hadn’t even brushed her hair. She was tired thanks to her husband thinking it would be a great idea to give their son a spoonful of sugar for breakfast.

 

Narcissa cursed under her breath, muttering things that a woman of her status wasn’t supposed to know about. She frowned as Draco rolled onto his back and his grey eyes happily stared at the clouds imagining his favorite desserts were forming in the sky.

 

The smiles, the rosy red cheeks and the giggling. The image haunted her. They were enough to make anyone retch endlessly for hours.

 

A…

 

No, she couldn’t even think about it. Still, she had to tell _someone_.

 

A loud crack made her jump and she turned her head, glaring at the house elf that appeared next to her. The bloody thing always made her uneasy, even when she was younger. Their big eyes and floppy ears made her shiver.

 

“Missus, Dobby found chest he cannot open—“

 

Narcissa rolled her eyes and grabbed the wooden chest he was holding out to her. She yelled something about how useless he was and gave him his leave. A quick glance showed her Draco was still staring up at the clouds with a content smile on his face.

 

This gave her enough time to drop the chest to the ground and examine it closely. The dark wood was carved with different slithering snakes on it and the Malfoy family crest. There was no lock for a key but instead a tiny hole where you could fit your wand in. She paused, thinking for a moment of what could be inside the chest. She hoped that it wasn’t bones of a long dead animal. Her father-in-law had an odd sense of humor.

 

Quickly, she removed her wand from her robe pocket and used her free hand to smooth her blonde hair back as she poked her wand in the hole. The chest quickly popped open and she greedily started sifting through the mysterious treasures she had just found.

 

There were no jewels, there wasn’t any money but instead scrolls of parchment and random broken pieces of things she had no interest in learning about.

 

“Rubbish,” she mumbled, moving some of the objects around. “Pure rubbish.” Her slender hands gripped one of the scrolls. She unrolled it and scanned the words carefully.

 

Her heart stopped as she realized what she was reading. The chest did not belong to her father-in-law, at least not the contents, no, the contents belong to her _darling_ husband who had to be the biggest idiot in all of England for keeping what was in her hands in their house.

 

_The Death Eater’s Digest_

 

Narcissa’s heart started to pound nervously in her chest and she jumped as the white French doors slammed shut loudly. She looked up, shoved the paper in her pockets and tried to give her husband who was walking towards her the most nonchalant smile she could muster.

 

He waved, muttered a quick ‘hello’ and walked past Narcissa without so much as a second glance or even a chaste kiss on the cheek. She glared at him as he walked over to their son, dropped to his knees and gave Draco a small pat on the head. Draco drooled and gave him a toothy grin that made Lucius laugh loudly as if it was the funniest thing in the world, oblivious to his frail wife who was shaking.

 

“Lucius, must you be so…so… _fatherly_ ,” Narcissa said with annoyance. She ran a nervous pale hand through her blonde hair and bit her lower lip to prevent herself from screaming.

 

If her husband knew…he would leave her…probably for someone _much_ younger and a brunette.

 

She would bring shame to the Black family and be blasted off of her family tree. Even though her sister was in Azkaban she would find a way to come out and destroy her because Narcissa had let the unthinkable happen.

 

Draco, her only son, her pride and joy…

 

Had _hugged_ a muggle.

 

Just thinking about the _incident_ made her cry out like she was in pain (earning a sideways glance from Lucius) and shove her fist in her mouth, to try and stop the wails and the tears that were surely going to come.

 

“Mummy has gone mad,” Lucius whispered to Draco. He giggled and clapped his hands. “We’re going to have to send her far away and it’ll be just you and me from now on.”

 

She scoffed and folded her arms against her chest, giving her husband a steely glance. The parchment was burning a hole in her pocket. She wanted to pull it out and give him a piece of her mind, use very colorful language that would force Lucius to grovel at her feet for forgiveness for being so stupid and throw mountains of diamonds at her. He _knew_ it wasn’t safe for them to keep his old Death Eater paraphernalia inside their house. The Ministry didn’t seriously search the Manor from top to bottom but leaving something so simple and _useless_ around was a huge mistake to Narcissa.

 

She kept it tucked safely in her pocket as leverage. If Draco said anything about muggles and the fact that she had taken him to one of their parks instead of a wizarding one she would whip it out and remind her husband who was the boss.

 

“Mummy has _not_ gone mad,” she snapped. Lucius rolled his eyes, picked up Draco and pulling him onto his lap, bouncing him up and down. He squealed, hands tightly gripping his father’s shirt as he bounced up and down, up and down. “Keep it up Lucius and I’ll hex you in bed.”

 

He grinned. “Ah, foreplay with you Narcissa is always interesting.”

 

Narcissa blushed and mumbled something incoherent under her breath. He was such a flirt, always had been, and always would be. When they had first met he had _innocently_ tried to slide his hand up her dress, arguing he had mistaken her leg for the arm of a chair.

 

“Shouldn’t you be off beheading someone or something or other? Impressing some Minister or obliviating their mind so you can convince them to like your awfully _bubbly_ personality?”

 

He chuckled and placed Draco down. The boy immediately fell back, pretending to swim backwards on the rich green grass with a big grin on his face as he stared at the clouds, mumbling gibberish to himself.

 

Lucius got up and walked over to his wife, grass stains on his black trousers and sweat stains appearing on his white buttoned down shirt. His hands reached out for Narcissa’s waist, she tried swatting him away but he was stronger. The side of her lips raised upwards as she fell into his hold, his large nose sniffing and wiggling by the side of her ear, making her break out with giggles.

 

“Stop it! I am a woman of a certain status. Public displays of affection—“

 

“Don’t you ever stop talking?” he asked seriously. “I have a meeting with Severus actually. I’ll be back in an hour. Try and become a better housewife by the time I come back,” he suggested with a lopsided grin. “Or else I’m going to have to go shopping for a new one and you know how much I _loathe_ shopping.”

 

Before Narcissa could respond he gave her a swift kiss on the cheek and detached himself from her, spinning on the spot and disappearing with a loud crack. She frowned and eyed her son who was sitting up and staring at her, hugging himself with his tiny arms.

 

Her foul mood returned as she remembered the little muggle insect— _girl_ —he had met in the park and the way Draco ran up to her when she fell off of her swing, her awful brown eyes filling with tears and lower lip trembling as she wailed in pain.

 

He had wrapped his arms around her small body and said, “No cry _frwend_.” The little girl had stopped and stared at him with her glistening eyes, only to start up again when Narcissa snatched her son, throwing him over her shoulder like a mad woman and running towards some trees and then promptly made the two vanish.

 

The thought of the little demon child made her skin crawl and bile rise in her throat. Not only had her son been _nice_ (something Malfoy’s were not known for) but he had been nice to a muggle _girl_.

 

A girl.

 

Her eye twitched and Draco stared at her with confusion as she pulled out the parchment she had hidden in her pocket, the wind making the papers shake momentarily.

 

_The Death Eater’s Digest_ had been an idea created by the wives of men who were trying to get into Voldemort’s inner circle. Of course women had simply come up with the idea but since they were weak and feeble creatures (Narcissa snorted at this) it was rumored that the men were the ones that actually wrote the articles.

 

_Well_ , thought Narcissa, flipping through the crumpled papers, _if there was ever a time I needed to discuss a pureblood issue with others…_

 

She paused, her thoughts were fast and dark inside her head. If Voldemort had still been around and found out about Draco and his muggle hugging ways they would have been goners. Her husband would have been dead, her son would have been dead and Narcissa probably would have been kept alive just so she could have felt an endless pain in her heart.

 

Thankfully he was gone and she really didn’t give him much thought these days, considering the Malfoy family had been in so deep that it was a miracle the stupid Ministry sincerely believed Lucius had done everything against his will.

 

“Useless rubbish,” she muttered, reading the titles of the pieces.

 

Question and answers with some of the top Death Eaters (if this really fell into the wrong hands she didn’t know what she would do as she stared at a picture of her husband, glaring back at her with his arm up, exposing his Dark Mark, hair slicked back looking borderline attractive).

 

She remembered Lucius pouring over the paper, reading it every two weeks it was released, shouting about this and that.

 

_“Did you read it Narcissa? Did you see how many muggles have been killed? The count is nearing one thousand!”_

He would shout with glee, waving his arms around with excitement like a child. She probably could have blamed Draco’s arm movements all on her husband.

 

“I’ll tell you something Draco,” Narcissa said, gripping the paper and walking towards her son. He was still giving her this look that either meant he was constipated or interested in what she had to say.

 

She joined him on the grass, awkwardly trying to close her legs and still sit in a comfortable position since she had on a dress.

 

“If everyone wasn’t in hiding or Azkaban I would seek some of these families, some of the women, to find out where I went wrong. They always had the best advice when it came to children.”

 

She wrinkled her nose and tried to think of something a Death Eater’s wife would say.

 

_“For shame! For shame! How could you let your son hug a muggle? The problem isn’t him, it’s you and your terrible parenting skills!”_

Well…surely they wouldn’t blame _her_. It was always the man’s fault if something was wrong with the child. That’s what her mother had told her anyway but she had never really liked Lucius ( _Look at that head of hair of his Cissa! Practically looks like a woman!_ ).

 

Narcissa laid the paper on the grass and pointed out the picture of her husband.

 

“Daddy?” Draco asked, peering at the picture. A big smile appeared on his face and his grey eyes shined brightly with happiness. Narcissa felt slightly ruffled, jealous that her son was so excited to see Lucius in the paper.

 

“Yes,” she whispered, flipping to the next page. She was about to make a comment, point out some of the other people, a name or two that Draco should have known, Bellatrix’s name specifically but Narcissa stopped abruptly, staring at the page in front of her.

 

_WWVD?_

What Would Voldemort Do? She ignored her fussy son who was waving his arms in the air next to her and kicking his legs in the grass, screaming about wanting to see his father.

 

Her blue eyes scanned the articles furiously. It was the advice column someone had created for Death Eaters and their family members to write to if they ever had a question or a problem and were too stupid to figure it out themselves. No one knew who wrote the answers. It could have been Voldemort himself.

 

Narcissa doubted it because the situations were so stupid. If you thought your husband was a traitor to Voldemort and was sharing his secrets, the obvious thing would have been to get him killed. Not write to a paper about it so everyone could get interrogated. (Though the responder said something much more colorful that made Narcissa’s neck flush from embarrassment.)

 

But Narcissa was being stupid. She had found the article in a moment of weakness and now…well, surely no one would answer if she wrote him or her now? Of course it wouldn’t be the _worse_ thing if she tried.

 

It’s not like she could hop on down to Azkaban with flowers to visit her sister and ask her for her advice. Bellatrix had always been a bit mad though. She would probably tell Narcissa that Draco hadn’t been exposed to enough Dark Magic ( _go on a killing spree, Cissa!)_ but killing muggles had never been her style.

 

She quietly followed the Dark Lord and when he fell she quietly waved a white flag in the air for surrender (she really came in peace no matter the situation).

 

She pulled her wand out of her pocket and summoned a piece of clean parchment, ink and a quill. The three items zoomed quickly to her, dropping to the grass slowly. She had to swat Draco’s hand away as he tried to dip his fingers in the ink. She had to deal with one incident already, she didn’t need him covered in ink and running around like some dirty homeless muggle.

 

“Well Draco,” she said with a sigh, he looked at her with his grey eyes opened wide and mouth creating small bubbles, “this is between you and I. If you didn’t have your father’s genes this probably never would have happened. I’ll find an answer for you. Don’t worry about anything.”

 

But he had already dropped back down to the grass, ignoring her heartfelt speech and pointing up at the clouds in the sky.

 

Narcissa leaned over, shakily held her black quill with her hand and placed her parchment on her knee and started to scribble away, pouring her heart and soul into her message.

 

\---

 

Lucius Malfoy stepped into the Hog’s Head, immediately met with darkness. He blinked, trying to get his eyes to adjust from the sun to the dark smoky atmosphere. With his hand discreetly gripping his wand he walked quietly towards the back of the room, towards the darkest corner and slid onto a wooden chair.

 

There was a person already sitting in the chair opposite of him, head bent down, black hair over his eyes. He looked up, face impassive, revealing no emotion whatsoever.

 

Severus Snape really knew how to get under Lucius’s skin.

 

“Severus—“

 

“Not so loud,” he said with a grunt. “You never know who’s listening.”

 

Lucius stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Severus might have been a brilliant Potions Master at Hogwarts but the man was bloody paranoid. Whenever they met he tried to get Lucius to talk with code words but he was not going to refer to their _momentarily_ fallen Master as a fluffy the white bunny.

 

“Severus,” Lucius said, leaning forward to whisper. “How are you doing? There have been rumors of sightings of…”

 

Severus gave him a steely glance with his dark eyes, the vein in his forehead pulsing.

 

“Dark creatures,” Lucius decided to say (who _seriously_ referred to the Dark Lord as a bunny? It was inhumane). He waited for Severus to say something but all he did was nod his head and wave his hand at a waitress who appeared at their table.

 

Lucius himself didn’t know how he felt about the rumors. Sometimes it kept him up at night and when his wife found him sitting up in bed staring at nothing she asked him very rudely if he was going mad.

 

He blamed his nightly woes on indigestion and the house elf’s cooking.

 

Considering he had pretty much abandoned the Dark Lord’s cause and nearly wept at the thought of going to Azkaban he wasn’t looking forward to a reunion with his Master.

 

He wasn’t going to tell Severus that though. Lucius was stupid but he wasn’t _that_ stupid.

 

“Yes,” Severus drawled out, “there are always dark creatures roaming about at night. Everything is twisted in a web of lies.”

 

He gave Lucius a look that could have easily been perceived as Severus coming on to him as he licked his lips slowly.

 

Lucius felt queasy and he slumped in his chair, knitting his brows in confusion. He never understood Severus.

 

“Right…” Before he could say anything more a black and white feathered owl swooped into the Hog’s Head, flying over the patron’s heads, hitting some of the hats of the women making them squeal and landed on their table.

 

Lucius leaned forward, gloved hand stretched out to remove the parchment from the owl’s beak but it turned it’s head and made a motion to Severus.

 

“Isn’t this yours?” Severus asked, motioning towards the bird.

 

“I never sent you a letter,” he said with mild confusion. He was more than mildly confused but he knew better than to appear completely out of the loop.

 

Severus arched his eyebrow and stared at the envelope with amusement, a rare smile appearing on his dry and cracked lips. He opened the envelope, kept it out of Lucius’s reach and opened the letter, scanning the words quickly.

 

“Well,” Lucius asked with a snap, “who is it from?”

 

The answer was obvious but he didn’t understand why his wife would be sending secret letters to Severus. If they were having an affair right under his nose he would have been more than shocked.

 

It must have been his large hooked nose. Narcissa had always said she was attracted to Lucius’s slightly large one. Of course she said it rather sarcastically and explained it was because he had the ability to sniff people out better than she could with her little nose.

 

“My mistress of course,” he responded with an eye roll. Lucius glowered at him. “I’ve been invited for tea,” he said rather unconvincingly.

 

Severus was _never_ invited for tea. He might have been Draco’s godfather but he didn’t actually _like_ Draco or children for that matter. If he was ever invited it was late at night when Draco was tucked in his bed.

 

Lucius had to ask himself again, was his wife having an affair with his…well, Severus wasn’t his friend, he was more like a nuisance…an acquaintance…regardless of what he was, he was _his_ and Narcissa was _his_ and Lucius did not like to share.

 

\---

 

When Severus appeared at Malfoy Manor he didn’t exactly know what was going to happen. He was positive there was going to be shrieking and yelling, the two would probably break out in a row and then Draco would let his lower lip tremble, breaking out into loud tears and like always Severus would have to pick up the pieces.

 

He was always cleaning up others messes.

 

He grumbled to himself as Lucius led him towards the gardens, opening the white French doors to where Narcissa and his godson were relaxing outside. He could see them through the windows of the doors. Narcissa tickling his stomach with her hands as Draco lay sprawled out on his back in the grass.

 

“Narcissa!” Lucius shouted, sweeping in front of Severus and shoving him behind him. Severus grunted and rolled his eyes. He always did have to make an entrance. “I’m home!”

 

Severus watched as Narcissa looked up, the smile that was on her face quickly turning into a scowl, blue eyes darkening and forehead creasing.

 

“I didn’t know you were bringing _company_ with you,” she said shrilly, dusting dirt and grass off of her.

 

Lucius raised his eyebrow and Severus whistled to himself, walking over to Draco who was waving to him.

 

“Funny, because Severus _says_ you invited him over for tea. I saw our owl in the Hog’s Head myself. If your letter didn’t say anything about tea then what did it say?”

 

Narcissa turned her head sharply and eyed him, gritting her teeth. Severus said nothing and opted instead to grab Draco’s hand and peel his upper body off the floor. He himself was crouching over so he didn’t have to sit on the grass and would be able to make a quick getaway.

 

“I….well…I….you see…” She stared at Severus, pleading with her eyes for him to say something, _anything_ , to save her for the moment. He didn’t normally like to help people out or stick himself in between a lover’s spat but Draco had thrown his arms around him, making him fall to the floor like a trapped animal.

 

“Sometimes,” he drawled out, trying to lightly push Draco off of him. He didn’t budge and Severus scowled. “You have to ask yourself _what would Voldemort do?_ ”

 

Narcissa gasped, getting up from the ground and trudging towards her husband, standing behind him.

 

“P-pardon?” Lucius stuttered. He took a deep shaky breath and reached his hand out for his wife, slumping on her shoulder like someone had knocked the wind out of him.

 

“I ask myself that all the time,” she whispered, making Lucius jump.

 

“You _do_?” he asked with a squeak.

 

She nodded her head and Severus had to stop himself from laughing by biting the inside of his cheek. Draco giggled on top of him and he patted his head like the boy was a dog instead of a human.

 

“When?”

 

Narcissa shrugged. “All the time. From the moment I wake-up until I go to sleep. I say to myself,” she slowly walked away from her husband and towards the red rose bushes in her garden, picking one and twirling it with her fingers, “Cissa, that’s what I call myself you see. I say, Cissa, what would Voldemort do? What would he eat? What would he…wear…because the fashions are always changing.”

 

Lucius gaped at her, fingers visibly trembling. “W-what?”

 

“Oh yes,” said Severus, pushing Draco away from him and getting up from the ground. “I ask myself that every second of the day. It’s what any good Death Eater would do.”

 

Severus knew he hit a nerve when Lucius’s face paled and he pursed his lips. Lucius was not the best ex-Death Eater, or current Death Eater, Severus didn’t doubt he searched high and low for the Dark Lord sometimes, while other times he cowered in fear at any word that started with ‘V.’

 

He should have realized he had it easy. He wasn’t the one that had to take care of that stupid paper. He wasn’t the one that had to write back to witches and wizards to give them advice on what to do when they came in contact with a muggle ( _behead them with your wand!)_. It had been _years_ since he got a letter for the _Death Eater’s Digest_.

 

He unfortunately could not tell them to behead his godson or give him some sort of lobotomy in order to squeeze the muggle loving side out of him.

 

Muggles, Severus had found out, weren’t _all_ bad.

 

“I ask myself that all the time!” Lucius shouted with a curt nod. “F-from the m-moment I wake-up… _s-sure_ do. Whenever I come across a muggle…ingrained in my head, what would Voldemort do?”

 

Before Lucius or Severus could say anything Draco shouted, waving his hands in the air and stood up as tall as he could for a four-year-old.

 

“I _lub_ muggles!” he said with a grin, giggling to himself and swishing his little black cloak around.

 

Severus took two large steps away from him, trying to hide himself in the plentiful rose bushes that Narcissa was growing. Narcissa too stepped away from her husband and gave him a horrified look, shaking her finger at Lucius. Severus watched as Lucius took a tentative step towards the little boy who was spinning around and yelling about his love for muggles.

 

“I think now is one of those moments,” Severus shouted from behind a rose bush.

 

Narcissa glared at him and mouthed for him to ‘shut-up.’ Lucius turned his head and looked at Severus, a grim expression on his face.

 

“What?” he asked with confusion, waving his hands to try and quiet Draco.

 

“What would Voldemort do with,” he pointed a thin finger at Draco who hopped around singing ( _I lub muggles, yes I do! Muggles! Hug! Hug! Muggles! Lub you Muggles, yes I do!)_ , “ _that_ —him.”

 

“Of course,” he said with a slight cough. “Draco,” he said sternly, “we do not love muggles.”

 

“I think Voldemort would behead him or obliviate his mind,” Severus shouted from behind his bush.

 

“Severus!” Narcissa yelled shrilly, popping her head out from behind the rose bush she was hiding behind and glared at him. “Go home!”

 

He didn’t need to be told twice. He spun on the spot but before he left he gave her a look.

 

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” he whispered. “And I give _solid_ advice!” he pulled out the letter she had written to him and let it flutter to the ground, disappearing with a loud crack.


End file.
